Page 8 of Under Dark Skies

He kept checking his phone as he walked down the street. He assured himself that it was on vibrate. She was young and inexperienced, so she would most likely give him a call if she felt there was any trouble. It was up to him anyway to find out what was actually going on.

If Malcom was looking to start a war, then everyone—including both shifters and humans— were going to be caught in the line of fire. Malcom wasn’t the one Rafe usually communicated with when it came to reporting back; that was Griffen. Griffen was one of the oldest wolf shifter in existence, and thank God, was the most reasonable.

Rafe wanted to confirm the whispers Layla had brought to his attention before he actually approached Griffen. It would be a waste of time and resources if he simply brought him gossip.

Rafe kept his head down and his hands in his pockets. Since the Veil fell, it was easier to spot someone like him walking down the streets. But due to his position as a private investigator, he always wanted to do his best to blend in. Though with his pointed and animal-like features, it was hard to keep up that desire.

“It’s a dangerous time,” Griffen had said to him when dispatching him to Los Angeles a decade ago when humans were just coming into awareness of their supernatural neighbors.. “I need you to be the eyes and ears. Not just what the mundanes are doing. But what our own kind is cooking up.”

Well, some of the wolves had certainly cooked something up now.

As he ruminated about which higher wolves he could speak to about the rumors, he caught a disturbing scent. It was something wet, young, and tenacious. He didn’t like it. In normal circumstances he could blow it off—shifters and humans alike were all around, and no human could hide their scent very well. But whoever it was, they smelled desperate, and approaching soon.

And moving fast.

Rafe turned abruptly around a corner to an alleyway. Thankfully, there were many alleyways in LA. He leaned against the wall, trying to focus the scent. But as his eyes were closed, he was suddenly struck with what felt like a thousand sharp razors from the opposite direction.

Instinctively he ducked, narrowly missing another sharp stroke from a strong wolf. He ran on all fours down the other end of the alley. He didn’t like not knowing how his opponent looked, or how many there were. A wash of red and grey was all he could see once he made it down the end before he was hit again in the jaw.

“FUCK.” Rafe yelled out loud. He heard one of the attackers chuckle. It had been a while since he’d fought anyone that was even close to outmatching him. For the few seconds he was on the ground, he narrowed his focus. He curled his fingertips and barred his stunning, knife-like teeth. He was ready to let the animal out of its cage.

Rafe flew up and planted his feet. His three opponents were startled. Rafe quickly saw that they were human—all wearing grey track suits with slightly red shoes. They maintained their stance, whipping out night sticks with metal pointy ends.

“Come at me you bastards!” Rafe growled so deeply, he felt the litter beneath his feet quiver. The biggest man came at him first, and Rafe braced himself for impact. He swiped at his neck and was able to land a fist, knocking him to the ground. The smaller two leapt while his back was turned, forcing him once again to the ground.

Rafe was able to grab one by their thin neck and tossed him forward. He whimpered like a dog being kicked. He rolled over while the other pushed the pointed stuck down into his face. He knew that if any of the rusted edges were able to sink into his skin, the others would join in, and easily he’d be done for. He tried to channel his rage into the battle.

He lifted his knee to push the man off of him without touching his weapon. He kicked the groin—cheap but useful. The man screamed and fell backward. Rafe couldn’t help but to give out a little chuckle at his own move.

Quickly the larger man had recovered and was coming for him. Rafe easily blocked the weapon and grabbed the man’s free arm. He turned the wrist in opposite way and heard bones crack like ass. He yelled obscenities as Rafe threw him backwards.

He started crying in pain after he dropped his weapon. More like wailing, actually.

“What do you want from me!?” Rafe was able to finally yell once no one was attacking him.

“None of your fucking business, dog.” The small man said. The big one was still crying in the corner, holding his arm as it sat limp on his leg. Before they had the chance to try him again, Rafe went on all fours and galloped away.

His face ached, almost as if he had been swiped by a Lycan. The wind stung his open sores as he realized who those men were—PEACE agents, coming after him. Why would they be coming after him? Had they already found out what he had just the day before? Or was there someone else who had been on the opposing end of betrayal?

All he knew in that moment, was that Layla was no longer safe. Laying low wasn’t going to be good enough. They would come for her next—she is the sister of the woman who supposedly ran off with a wanted wolf. It would do nothing to them to take her out.

Rafe walked upright once he landed on the streets. He moved fast still, looking over his shoulder to see if any of the agents followed. He figured they wouldn’t make a scene amongst civilians—but honestly, he knew that anything could happen at that point.

Nine

Layla

It was colder that night than Layla had anticipated. She wore one of her favorite outfits just to make herself feel good; a bright ruby red pencil skirt and a thin black blouse. She felt she looked both sexy and sophisticated in it.

The girls joked that she looked like she was the owner of Vogue. She assumed they meant it as an insult, but she actually enjoyed it.

They had just gathered for a few drinks before they made their way to the club for the night. Layla was happy that she had chosen to come out. It was definitely the distraction that she needed.

Most of the girls walked ahead while Layla and Amy lagged behind. They talked about the easy things—work, men, Don and his awkwardness. Layla was only two drinks deep, but she already knew that tonight was going to be a night she would never forget.

She was certainly right about that, but not for the reason she had hoped.

Ahead of them, two men stop Don and one of his coworkers who had joined him for the night. Layla looks ahead, suddenly feeling suspicious.

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